Cursed memory –
or blessed? – rarely cost-free:
so I garden me!
lost last dollars blues:
go ’round with holey pockets
and spend day lookin’!
I noticed when she
started to smoke – just small puffs.
Now, greedy she goes!
Someone yelled out “Duck!”
I quacked “what?” and took a big bat
for a real long ride!
She sits and sweetsings
on my starched hospital bed
but I remain gone
though lyric promise she gives
haunt me still those big brown eyes
muscle memory
all well and good – pain and strain
get passed along, too!
Tomorrow’s Leap-Day!
Not since nineteen sixty-four
have I remembered!
Maybe by mid-March
I will recall the right year:
I am worse with days!
richwrapper 